


come as you are

by perdiccas



Category: Criminal Minds, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Case Fic, Community: xover_exchange, Crossover, Gen, Hostage Situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perdiccas/pseuds/perdiccas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The BAU travel to LA to help resolve an unusual hostage situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come as you are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_q](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/gifts).



> Written for a_q for xover_exchange 2011. With thanks to jaune_chat for the lightening quick beta read. ♥

The initial mission briefing isn't usually held aboard the jet but with a hostage situation already underway, time is of the essence. On the overhead screen, Garcia patches through real-time footage from a local newscast; images of the SWAT team in position form a chilling backdrop as Hotch outlines the case.

"At approximately 0930, Sarah Connor, her son, John, a woman posing as her daughter, Cameron, and an unknown Caucasian male, stormed the Psi-Tech HQ in LA. They shut down the company mainframe and are currently holding 16 people hostage. This isn’t the first offence for them. In 1992, Connor was arrested for the murder of Miles Dyson after a similar attack on Cyberdyne Systems.”

"I remember that incident," Rossi tells the team. "Connor believed that she was being hunted by an army of sentient AIs who sought to murder her and her son."

"Killer robots?" Morgan scoffs.

"From the future," Rossi confirms.

Morgan raises a sceptical eyebrow. "With that level of paranoid delusion why isn't she in a mental institution by now?"

"Ah, but, my love, she was," Garcia interjects over speakerphone. "Pescadero State Hospital. She served three years of her sentence but in ‘95 John sprung her out..." she trails off, adding sombrely, "It says here he was only fifteen years old at the time."

There's a short pause as the team digests that information.

"Pescadero is one of the most advanced prison facilities in the continental United States," Reid supplies. "The maximum security wing is wired in such a way that even in the event of a state-wide blackout, two separate simultaneous key sequences are required before the population can be released. Breaking out an inmate would take hacking skills beyond what even Garcia possesses."

"Hey!" Garcia yelps indignantly.

"Don't be tempted now, baby girl." Morgan chuckles. "Just let the unbelievers roll right off your back."

"If only the Connors could do the same..." she mutters.”And not that I should dignify such slander with a response but John pulled off mommy dearest's jailbreak with a little help from his good friends, C and 4. Blew right through the walls."

"Children raised in Doomsday cults are groomed from birth to be true believers. In her sessions with Dr. Silberman, Connor described how she had taught her son from an early age to be proficient in explosives, firearms and hand to hand combat in preparation for what she called ‘Judgement Day.’ For all intents and purposes," Hotch explains, "John Connor is a child soldier and we need to profile him as such.”

JJ looks stricken. “He’s been fighting a war since the day he was born. Even the most highly trained soldiers start to buckle after six months of continuous service. His PTSD has to be unimaginable.”

"And this Dr. Silberman," Emily asks, "is he available for a consult? Even ten years after the fact, he might have valuable insights into Sarah Connor's motivation."

"Negativo, I'm afraid," Garcia replies. "Right after Connor escaped, Silberman retired to write a book—”

"Sounds like a nice life," Rossi interrupts, flashing a cheeky grin.

"Maybe not so much. Two weeks ago he flipped out, assaulted an FBI agent and is currently being held in the very hospital he used to work at. And listen to this," Garcia adds dramatically. "He's telling everyone who will listen Sarah Connor was right."

"Sounds like we're looking at a charismatic leader," Morgan says. "Anyone who can sell time travelling killer robots to a mental health professional has gotta be one hell of a sweet talker."

"Do we think Silberman and Connor had recent contact?" JJ suggests. "A stressor like that could explain both the doctor's breakdown and Connor's sudden reappearance after ten years off the grid."

"It's a definite possibility," Hotch agrees. "JJ, you and Rossi will proceed to Pescadero as soon as we land. Get anything you can from Silberman. The rest of us will be at the hostage site. The local PD has set up a crisis management centre outside the Psi-Tech building. We'll be delivering the profile as soon as we have it."

The team settle into a comfortable silence, studying the case files on their tablets. Eventually, Rossi shakes his head slowly in disbelief. "You know, looking at their mug shots then and security camera footage now, it's like they haven't aged a day."

"Good genes," Emily says. "Some people just keep their youthful good looks no matter how old they get."

Morgan chucks Reid companionably on his chin. "You'd know all about that wouldn't you, pretty boy?"

+

The scene outside of Psi-Tech is one of barely organised chaos. Reid trots behind the rest of the team, ducking under the police tape just as Hotch orders, “Move the perimeter back another fifty yards and get that news helicopter out of here. We’re dealing with a group of highly paranoid fanatics; if they feel we’re encroaching too heavily on their space, it could provoke them into acting rashly.”

“More rashly than they already have?” a softly spoken man asks gesturing to indicate the hostage situation as it currently stands. Agent James Ellison, according to the ID badge clipped to his lapel.

“Actually,” Reid explains, “if we assume an immediate and apparently apocalyptic technological threat, all evidence points to the Connors making extremely reasoned choices.”

“If we assume,” one of the local cops deadpans.

“The point is,” Emily says firmly, “the Connors are operating in a manner that is internally consistent with their world beliefs. They’re here to eliminate a threat they believe no one else is taking seriously. They don’t want to kill all those people in there and they sure as hell don’t want to get into a shootout with us. But if they feel like that’s the only choice we’re giving them, they will fight to the death.”

“We need to figure out what they want and make them feel like we’re giving it to them in exchange for the people they’re holding. As a group, they’re deep in the throes of a mass delusion. Now isn’t the time to try and convince them they’re crazy.” Hotch asks, “Have they made any demands?”

“Nothing,” Ellison replies. “We’ve had no contact with them whatsoever; in addition to shutting down the computer system and frying the surveillance cameras, they shut down all telecommunications as soon as we tried calling. They have to have confiscated cell phones from the hostages because we can’t make contact there either. Last resort is a bullhorn but we were told to wait for your arrival.”

“It’s good that you did,” Hotch confirms. “Psi-Tech was due to launch a state of the art satellite this afternoon, one that when activated could track every cell phone, every laptop, every Bluetooth earpiece in the world without the need to triangulate the signal. It stands to reason that issues of communication are a trigger for this group. Face-to-face interaction might be our only means of getting through to them.”

He looks meaningfully at Morgan who nods, already strapping on a flak jacket.

“Wait,” Reid protests. “I should be the one to go in.”

“Spencer...” Emily says gently.

Morgan adds, “Relax, Reid. I’ve got this one.”

“We profiled these people as coming from a highly militaristic subculture; they’re going to see someone with Morgan’s build as a potential threat no matter how sympathetic he is to their cause. Not to mention, whoever we send in needs to be able to break down for them in precise technical detail why Psi-Tech isn’t doing anything sinister. I can walk you through it from out here but given the available evidence, the first thing they’re likely to do is to destroy whatever communication devices you walk in there with.”

Hotch studies him critically for a minute, and then nods his acquiescence. Reid pulls on a bulletproof vest and tries to ignore the tremors in his hands.

“I’d like to go in too,” Ellison states.

“That’s not possible,” Hotch says firmly. “I’m sorry, Agent Ellison, I know you’ve been on the Connors’ heels for a while now but that’s all the more reason you’re the last person they’ll want to see. You embody everything they perceive to be a threat about the government: tenaciousness, scepticism. It’s imperative they feel they’re being listened to and taken seriously.”

Reluctantly, Ellison backs down. Morgan claps Reid encouragingly on the back. “Come out of there in one piece, Reid,” he orders softly as Reid approaches the building.

+

Reid comes to to the sound of something being metal being smashed. He blinks rapidly to clear his head. The room he’s in is bathed in a soft blue light; the mainframe is still offline so an emergency generator must be up and running. On the table in front of him, his earpiece lies is in scattered pieces.

Across from him, John Connor is working at a laptop.

“Hi,” Reid says. He flexes his fingers and is surprised to find he hasn’t been restrained. Gingerly, he touches his fingers to his cheekbone; the blood there is still fresh and freely flowing. The punch he took couldn’t have knocked him out for more than a few minutes.

John looks up, and then over Reid’s shoulder. Reid glances that way too to find the unidentified man leaning in the doorway with an assault rifle at the ready. “You okay?” John asks. “Derek has one hell of a right hook.”

“I’m fine,” Reid assures him, despite the dizziness he’s still feeling. “Spencer Reid.”

“They send you in here to check on the ‘hostages’?” Derek asks gruffly ignoring his introduction. He spits the word ‘hostage’ like it’s a personal affront.

“No,” Reid says. The men look at him in surprise. He backtracks. “Well, I mean, yes, that’s one reason I volunteered to come in here but I don’t need to check on them. I trust they’re safe.”

“Just like that?” Derek says flatly. He’s studying Reid intently and like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Not without reason,” Reid explains. He turns to John. “You saved my life in 2032.”

If Reid was in any doubt that this John Connor would one day become John Connor, leader of the human resistance, the only man who’d stood between him and summary execution, the uncannily familiar expression on John’s face would have been enough to convince him. Suddenly, he’s grabbed by the scruff of his neck and slammed against the wall.

“You’re from the future?” Derek sounds about as suspicious as Reid thought he’d be. He’d been sent back long before Reid joined the Resistance but the Reese brothers’ reputation lived on. He shoves the sleeves on Reid’s shirt up.

“Higher,” Reid tells him calmly when he doesn’t immediately see what he’s looking for. He finds the barcode tattooed above Reid’s elbow.

Derek steps back, still wary.

John stands and regards him thoughtfully. “You don’t look much like a Resistance fighter.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Derek mutters.

From the doorway, Cameron’s eyes flash an unhuman blue. Reid knows he’s being scanned. “He’s human,” she states flatly.

“Where’s mom?” John asks.

“Interrogating the prisoners.” Cameron shrugs awkwardly, as if she’s only just learned the gesture.

“You know this man?” Derek demands.

Cameron shakes her head once. “No. But a lot of time has passed since I was sent back. Many more people will have been liberated by John since then.”

“Is that what happened?” John asks him. “In the future, will I free you from a Skynet work camp?”

“In a manner of speaking.” This is the hard part, but it needs to be said. He has to trust that this John will save him, just as he did—will do—in thirty-five years. “I was working in a Skynet facility ten miles north of Topanga Canyon when it was liberated.”

Realization dawns on Derek’s face. He rushes Reid violently, pounding him against the door. “Traitor!”

“Derek, no!”

“He’s a grey, John. Do you have any idea what that means? He collaborates with _them_ ,” he jerks his chin viciously, indicating Cameron. “He sided with metal against humanity.”

Reid trembles all over, but his voice is steady. “That’s not what happened. They plucked me out of Century work camp, set me up to work on developing an advanced model. More advanced than the T-888.” Cameron’s eyes widen in a remarkably human expression of interest. “It was work with them or be executed. I thought if I complied, the information I learned... it could be of use when I escaped. And if I couldn’t escape,” Reid says fiercely, “I could plant a virus in the programming. Cause them to malfunction if they were ever manufactured.”

“Horseshit,” Derek snorts. “You’re a coward. Death is too good for you but we don’t have the time for that.”

Reid stands tall as Derek levels his weapon. He refuses to close his eyes. Just as Derek’s finger is closing on the trigger, John says firmly, “No.”

For a long tense moment, Derek doesn’t move. Finally, he grudgingly lowers the rifle.

“John...” he says.

“I sent him here for a reason.” John says simply. “If he deserved to die, he’d already be dead.” To Reid he says, “What can you tell us?”

Reid clears his throat, brushes past Derek to point at the powered down servers. “Psi-Tech isn’t a threat.”

“The satellite,” John starts but Reid cuts him off. As it is, they’re running out of time.

“It’s the technological equivalent of a platypus, an evolutionary dead-end. There’s a reason none of the people you’re holding here can give you the answers you want; they don’t have the expertise to develop this into what you fear it’s going to become.”

“In the future,” Cameron interrupts, “Skynet operates on advanced satellite communications, of which the Psi-Tech module is an integral part.”

“No,” Reid argues quickly. “It’s a part but not an integral one. You need to go back to the source code and see who else is piggy-backing off Psi-Tech’s work to create a more powerful tracking system. Those are the people you need to stop. By itself, this satellite is the pinnacle of what Psi-Tech’s achievements will be. And in a year it will be obsolete.”

“We have to get out of here,” John says.

“The building is surrounded,” Derek argues.

“The first priority of the FBI is to ensure the hostages are retrieved safely. Release them and set the building on fire, in the chaos you should be able to slip away.”

“And you?” John asks. “They just gonna believe you let us get away?”

“No,” Reid replies. He steels himself. “67% of all hostage situations end with the negotiator injured or killed. That rises to 82% in situations where the hostage-takers are considered fanatical extremists.”

John nods in understanding. Derek raises his gun again, but the vengeful glint is gone from his eyes.

“You did good, Reid,” he says before he pulls the trigger.

+

Reid wakes up in a hospital bed. Even through the haze of drugs, his leg aches where the bullet ripped through him. He tries to sit but Emily gently pushes him back down.

“Slow down there, cowboy,” she says softly. “You take it easy now.”

“Did everyone get out okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she tells him. “Morgan had to carry you out over his shoulder,” she adds with a smile, “but everyone made it out.”

“Connor?” he asks.

Her face pinches tight. “They got away. Not your fault,” she stresses when he feigns a frown. She rubs her thumb over the inked skin above his elbow. “You’ve been keeping this under wraps,” she jokes. “Does Dr. Reid have a hidden wild side?”

“Something like that.”


End file.
